My dad is sooo cute!

Perhaps I was. I was running away from that little girl I always was. Trying to grow up. But unlike my mother, who claimed to have moved 2,000-plus miles from her parents to feel un-smothered for a change, I wanted to be smothered. I wanted to be flooded with undivided attention and pathetic love. I wanted to live in the nest of their security for…ever. Instead, my parents insisted I grow up. My senior year in college, my father told me that once I made it into college I would live outside the home. That if I considered going to a local college, I would still live in the dorm because, godbedamned, I needed some growing up. He was right.

And he loved me. He loved me the way enthusiasts love tall mountains to hike. He said I was programmed to be like he was – climbing at my own pace, stopping to take mental snapshots of the view at every other step. Enjoy life at every pass, he’d say. Once, when we walked together to Union Avenue get frozen yogurt, he told me that reality had far surpassed his dreams. And I remember that, the way I looked at our sneakered feet, keeping pace with each other, step-by-step. I wanted so much to be just like him. To find that peace that hung over his shoulders like a tallit.

Once, at our annual Christmas Eve party, someone asked me, “Who are you most like, your mother or father?” And before I could speak, my father answered. “Me. She is most like me.” And I glowed for week. A month. A lifetime. I glowed the way a firefly completely lights up a millimeter of space and time. That brilliant light that makes you wince and glean with pleasure because life is good and warm when fireflies light.

Becaue I am my father’s daughter, I moved 350 miles away. I thought it was what I was supposed to do. I left my family to follow a career  – the way my father did – which in my case was to Alabama, the only newspaper in a 350-mile radius that would hire me right out of college. And my life rooted here. I have a wonderful husband now. A beautiful son. My life may not have played out the way I had hoped or expected (I’ve yet to write that novel), but I eventually grew up. And isn’t that what a parent’s job is anyway?

If you ask and I were to reflect, I would say that yes, life has surpassed my dreams. I have found that inner peace my father spoke of. And in that respect, I am just like my Dad. 

Happy (belated) Birthday, pa!

photo, JWJourney 

Post from: Blisstree

After All, I’m Just like Dad

I do wonder about it, though.

I’m not one of them, you see. I was never the daddy’s girl. I wasn’t fortunate enough to have established a workable relationship with him. That’s why I can only speculate on how these women have turned out.

• Do you look for the same qualities that your father has in your partner?
• Do you find yourself drawn to men who remind you of what you have with your dad or simply just reminds you of the man?
• Is this an important consideration in choosing who you date?

Like what I read in this article about a girl named, Alyse, who married a long time acquaintance, Joe, soon after she lost her own father. I got the impression that she’s pretty close to her dad and I did find out that she admires her father’s life ethics and athleticism. Something she found that she had in common with the guy she married.

One thing that struck me the most was when it was mentioned that the feel of the guy’s hand reminded her of her father’s — it was a man’s hand, she said. I guess, the reason why it was highlighted was because it was a contributing factor to her deciding to be with the guy despite her current stand then to forego serious relationships due to her father’s death.

I’m a bit baffled. Though I know that there were other reasons for the match, the thought that something as small and, somewhat, trivial as this can trigger such a drastic decision remains a mystery to me. What could have possibly gone through her mind?

If you have thoughts about the matter, I’d appreciate some. I sure need some sort of reason behind this thingie that seems so foreign to me. Hahaha.

Post from: Blisstree

Dating For A Daddy’s Girl